


(remember your virtue) redemption lies plainly in truth.

by flustraaa



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Divergent (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Divergent Fusion, Azula (Avatar) is A Good Sibling, Background Relationships, Badass Sokka (Avatar), Bisexual Disaster Sokka (Avatar), Bisexual Zuko (Avatar), Even if it’s unclear, Eventual Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Gen, Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Inspired by Divergent, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, More tags to be added, Oblivious Sokka (Avatar), Oblivious Zuko (Avatar), Protective Sokka (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar)-centric, The Gaang Learns How Zuko Got The Scar (Avatar), Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, azula is uhh not so bad after all bc she deserved better, no beta we die like jet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28446369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustraaa/pseuds/flustraaa
Summary: sokka looks at him for the first time, as if the planets have aligned to form the perfect solution to a complex problem.it’s in the moment he whispers, “you’re ozai’s son.”that zuko’s new life shatters.(or,the divergent au that no one asked me for).
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Azula & Mai & Ty Lee, Azula & Mai (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Hakoda & Sokka (Avatar), Hakoda & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Kya & Sokka (Avatar), Mai & Sokka (Avatar), Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar), Sokka & Suki (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki/Yue (Avatar), The Blue Spirit & The Gaang (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot help myself i just keep having au ideas im so sorry

Sokka is born into Abnegation, son to Hakoda and Kya, and brother to Katara— and there’s something about it that had never really sat right with him. 

He’s not like Katara— sure, he’s a good guy— a nice guy, even, but he’s never gotten a handle on openly being able to offer himself. 

He’s never meshed quite right with the drab tones and flavourless, plant-based bullshit. He’s sick of blending in, and he’s sick of being expected to take things as they come; so, he sits before the clothed mirror, on the day after Katara’s sixteenth birthday, he lets his father pull the beads of their ancestors through his wolf tail. 

Katara sits in front of him, eyes piercing into his soul as their mother ties his sister’s hair into loops, pulling into chignon at the back of her head— he doesn’t say a word. 

It’s Hakoda, who breaks the silence— voice sullen like he knows his children are going to leave before they realise it themselves. 

“Are you nervous? For testing?” His hands tie a final braid into Sokka’s hair, dropping to his shoulders where he gives his son a gentle squeeze. 

“No,” the siblings answer together, Katara quietly inquiring, “were you?” 

“I was terrified,” Hakoda admits softly, brows coming together before a fond smile finds its way into his face, “your mother never was, though. Always fearless.” 

They exchange a knowing look that clearly means something so much deeper than Sokka could even begin to decipher— and to be quite honest, he’s not sure he wants to. 

So, instead, he allows his parents to rotate his and Katara’s chairs respectively, sliding the coverings away from the mirror for each of the pledges. 

Slowly, the young man takes a deep breath, and promises that he’ll never become something he’s not— and when he looks to his sister, she has the same look in her eyes.

* * *

The moment he sits in the beige chair, he feels trapped. A girl who can’t be too far from his age hovers above him, the inky black hair pulled into two buns at the back of her head; the rest hands freely, bangs framing her face,and boredom in her eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it, Kid,” she sighs, voice dull and gloomy, “one sim and you’ll be out of here. You don’t even have to get the godforsaken neck injection.” 

“The what—“ he stops speaking as a pearly liquid finds its way into his hand, the cool glass surrounding it making him realise how dry his throat truly is, “what is it?” 

“Bottoms up,” and as quickly as her attention came, it leaves, returning to the screen as Sokka knocks back the glass and leans back in his chair.

The world tilts, and his stomach burns as he’s met with a view he’d never asked for— an unsettling ringing resting somewhere in the back of his skull— the drink, his mind supplies uselessly. 

But the tranquility fades when he turns around, to find himself staring at several reflections the mirror— telling him— no, threatening him to chose from the pedestals. 

“Why?” He finds himself questioning suspiciously, as his eyes flicker between the stone— a steak, a broadsword, and a net all lie before him. 

“Choose.” 

“I don’t want to,” he tears around to look at the reflection, only to find the vision gone— and so are the odd array of options. 

“It’s too late.” 

A rabid snarl comes from his side, and before him stands easily one of the most terrifying dogs he’s ever seen— teeth barred and eyes devoid of the whole ‘man’s best friend’ energy. 

Of course, there’d be a rabid dog. _Fan-fucking-tastic._

“Shit,” he mutters, taking a few steps back as nearly gets taken out by the canine. The hound tears back for another bite, and Sokka closes his eyes, slowly falling to his knees until quiet whimpers follow in his wake. 

In front of him stands Katara, empty pedestals, and the puppy they’d rescued from the side of the edge of abnegation years ago, “Appa!” 

But the moment is gone as quickly as it came— shivers running down his spine as he hears Katara scream behind him. Familiar growl weasels it’s way into his ears, and an alarm bells rings loudly in his head. 

Why Katara hasn’t started fighting back or doing anything to help is absolutely beyond him, but the second it takes off— Sokka isn’t far behind, tackling the massive creature into the ground. 

The floor drops out beneath him, and a gasp rips its way out of his throat as he lurches upright in his chair— struggling to catch his breath. 

“Get up,” her voice is muffled, and Sokka’s lungs can’t seem to take in the air they so desperately need. The emotionless girl— once impassive, looks more terrified for anything. 

Of what— he’s not sure. And that’s almost worse. 

“Listen, kid,” her pristine black nails clack against the keyboard as her eyes scan over the words, “you’re going to tell anyone who asks that you got sick— that you couldn’t finish the test, and that your results were abnegation.” 

Sokka’s heart lurches, and he pales to a ghastly colour that might actually convince everyone he’d puked his brains out in a testing room. 

“What do you mean— my results—“ she shakes head head grimly, as if begging him not to press the problem further. 

“You were sick, and you’re going to take the back way home,” her voice is pinched, and he suspects that something has gone terribly amiss. 

“I can’t be abnegation—“ Sokka doesn’t care how desperate he sounds, voice teetering into a type of prideful that he utterly detests, “please-“ 

“Abnegation,” she confirms, and just as Sokka is about to start grovelling, she mutters, “and Erudite, and Candour, and Dauntless.” 

The air leaves his lungs, and she hefts him up from his chair pushing him towards the door— but he puts his weight against it before he can be thrown out, “what do you mean—“

“The test didn’t work on you. You don’t conform— now leave, before someone finds out.” 

And just like that, Sokka is shoved in an alleyway— and suddenly, with a wretch, he realises it might not be so hard to pretend that he got sick after all. 

* * *

They say their goodbyes that night, taking the time to bask in the vanity of family— but maybe, it’s not truly in vain at all.

Regardless, Sokka could never live a full life in Abnegation— not for himself, and not for anyone else. 

It’s that thought, that he mulls over desperately as they walk into the auditorium— more likely than not for the last time as a full family. 

His parents introduce him to a few faction leaders, and his chest sinks with each passing moment. 

He listens to the end of the alphabet drone on, slowly trickling by as few pledges defer from their families. Candour to Candour, Erudite to Erudite, Abnegation to Abnegation— but then, Dauntless to Amity. 

He counts the tallies in his head, the moments passing in a blue as he desperate tries to push down his guilt— he’s not Abnegation— he’s everything; and somehow, he’s still nothing at all.

And then? Sokka’s name is called— and he can’t bring himself to look at his parents, a frown on his lips as he rises to his feet. 

He can see it in their eyes that they already know— they know he’s going to leave, and that he’ll never come back. 

He knows they’ll never forgive him. 

Instead of saying a word, he holds his head high, looking straight forward as he pulls the cool piece of metal across his hand. 

Burgundy lands on the jagged rocks beneath his palms, and against his own faction, Ozai calls out, “Dauntless.” 

He doesn’t look back. 

Not even when Katara chooses Amity, and finds the arms of a boy who looks so familiar— but unrecognisable. 

And especially not when his mother rests her head on his fathers shoulder, and brine-ridden water lines her eyes. 

* * *

Nothing in his life could begin to compare to how he feels as he climbs to the top of the old L-train, fingers caressing metal and rust staining his hands.

To when he’s hauling himself onto the heavy boxcar, and leaning heavily against the door.

“Oh, sorry,” he mumbles breathily, eyes closed as he drops his head against the cool surface behind him. 

“You made it.” The girls chuckles, shaking her her head, as she offers him a pomegranate red smile, “no worries. I’m Suki.”

“Sokka,” there’s a dopey grin on his face, and he for the first time— he doesn’t feel guilty to indulge in his emotions.

Moments pass, and eventually they reach the roof of a building jumping out and sprawling on the roof as the train whizzes by.

They’re a mess of laughter on the ground, licking their wounds when the spirits decide that the Dauntless leaders are not quite done yet.

“Listen up, initiates,” an oddly arrogant voice calls out. When they turn, there’s a guy standing on the ledge of the building with eyes gleaming with a mirthless quality beneath. “I’m Hahn, one of your leaders. If you want to enter, this the is the way in. If you don’t want to jump, be my guest as a faction-less. As far as I’m concerned, if you don’t jump— you don’t have the guts to be in Dauntless.”

“Is there like—“ the voice hesitates, a hand coming up to scratch awkwardly at his chin. It’s a kid that that no one seems to recognise readily— tattered blue clothes claiming him as a former Erudite, “water at the bottom?”

“Why don’t you find out?” He taunts, in lieu of an answer, “or not, I guess.” 

Sokka kind of wants to punch the smug look off of his face, and he’s a step closer when Hahn continues, “who’s going to be the first guest of the underworld?”

Sokka, to say the least, is not amused.

“ _Me_ ,” a voice states confidently, and a beat passes before he realises it was him. “I will.”

Hahn makes a vague motion to the literal hole in the ground featuring a twenty story drop, and Sokka doesn’t hesitate.

Instead, he takes one shaky step onto the ledge, stabilising himself before sending one last glance at Suki.

And then, he jumps.

It’s weightless at first, before the sting of well worn rope claws through his grey clothing— leaving harsh marks.

A laugh rips it’s way from his throat, hands digging into the netting beneath him.

He’s elated, but when a pair of hands hauls him off of the net— cerulean irises latch onto a pair of aureate ones that are oddly familiar.

“What? Did you get pushed?” Theres a heat behind his words, but Sokka is ninety percent sure it’s for show.

“ _No_.”

Crimson mars the leftmost side of his saviours face, shaggy raven hair falls in his eyes as he hails Sokka off of the net, and onto the floor before steadying in a way that is as emasculating as it is oddly comfortable.

(So, _very_ ).

“What’s your name?” _That’s a good fucking question, pretty boy._

When no noise comes out, the boy looks at him drily, “is it a hard one? You can change it if you want to, but don’t pick something stupid. You’ll be stuck with it.”

A beat passes, then two before Sokka drops his hand from the boy’s (honestly, scarily jacked) shoulder. He couldn’t have been much older than Sokka, and suddenly it occurs to him that the scar is not nearly as fresh as it should be on a seventeen year old.

(It shouldn’t be on a seventeen year old at all).

“It’s Sokka. That’s pronounced with an -okka.” 

“First jumper, Sokka.” The, admittedly handsome, teenager looks absolutely anything but amused as he looks at the crowd. Gold eventually finds blue again, before he lowers his voice, “welcome to Dauntless.”


	2. Chapter 2

It becomes clear in the literal five seconds after the last jumper— Bolin, or something— gets off that Dauntless move fast as shit. 

Broody McScar is standing in front of them, arms crossed over his chest and legs holding the oh so scary alpha presence, but sub in disguise stance that Sokka pretty much expected from him from the second he yanked him off the net.

“Dauntless born, go with Azula— the rest of you, stay with me,” he drops his arms, fists clenching at his sides before he walks further into the centre of the room, “I’m Five, one of your instructors. I’ll be walking you through the stages of training, and grading you on your performance.”

“Five?” Another kid asks, clad in tell-tale shades of Candour, “what happened to the other four of you.” 

A couple brave souls huckle, but it only takes one look at Broody— Five, to realise that he’s not amused at all. He looks annoyed. 

The hot guy is tempered, Sokka catalogues for a later date. He can’t say it’s a surprise. 

“What’s your name, kid?” There’s a bite to his voice that is vaguely threatening, but clearly not threatening enough for the transfer to considering other options. Like, oh, Sokka doesn’t know. Perhaps, shutting the fuck up? 

“Jet,” he pushes the hair back from his eyes passively, chestnut brown eyes settling on gold and— oh, yep, theres the panic. 

Five takes a step forward, so close that Sokka can quite literally feel the heat coming off of him. 

Of course, he’s a flaming hot superhuman. 

“Well,” he pauses, eyes narrowing and lips pulling into a severe scowl, “Jet. You should learn to keep your mouth shut, you’ll never survive down here if you don’t. Am I understood?” 

Well, that was unnecessarily hot— uh, or it would be if Sokka, uh, liked him or something of that nature. Sokka could never like a guy like that. Emotionless, apathetic— and scared of nothing— fearless, his brain supplies helpfully. 

“Understood,” Jet echos back, eyes suddenly unable to meet the pair in front of him. 

“Alright,” he takes a few steps back, turning when the room doesn’t follow him immediately, “come with me.” 

The tour is kind of super unsexy— Dauntless is essentially an underground pit of drab grey and earthy tones that remind Sokka of the faction he’s been trying to erase from his memory. 

The pit is kind of rad though, and Sokka will absolutely be trying to climb to the top of the furthermost wall. 

The dormitory— that’s a different story. 

“This is where you’ll be living for the next ten weeks,” Five states passingly, gesturing to the room of shitty cots, and terribly unhygienic restroom-slash-shower areas, “everyone— guys, girls, and enbies alike— but keep your nasty little hands to your nasty little selves.”

Sokka snorts despite himself, but he knows for a fact that he imagines the slight quirk of their instructor’s lips at the sound he emits.

“Dinner is in fifteen minutes, I’ll be back in ten to collect you before you burn your clothes. You’re dauntless now, act like it.” 

Sokka quickly shucks free of his dull cotton outfit, reaching first for the jeans on the bed— he tugs them on and tightens a belt around his waist. In a swift motion his grey tweed jacket is hauled onto the bed, grey button down following in suit. 

“I thought Stiffs rejected vanity! How’d you get those abs?” Sokka rolls his eyes, though it’s clear in the way Suki catches his eyes that she sees him squirm uncomfortably despite his best attempts to hide it. 

“You do have nice abs,” Suki offers, in a very awkward and inherently un-Suki way. 

“Thanks,” Sokka beams, because, well, that’s Suki, and if he plays his cards right, they’ll be best friends if they both make it out of this. “You too.” 

Her cheeks flush, and from across the room cerulean eyes narrow on Sokka enough to make him cringe, “is that your girlfriend?” 

“Who?” Suki asks, tugging on the Dauntless issued black tank top, but her cheeks flush a deep crimson— a nervous laugh clawing its way from her throat as she glanced back at the girl with crisp white hair, “oh, Yue? No— I, she’d never— I don’t like her like— uh.” 

“Alright,” Sokka agrees quietly, “I believe you.” 

It’s a blatant lie, but Suki doesn’t seem to notice.

* * *

Finding a place to sit at dinner is a nightmare and a half— most of it being Suki tugging Sokka along, him trailing behind her as they weave around premise friend groups. 

They’d eventually decided on a table with a few of the initiates, including the girl who looked like she’d wanted to skin him alive a handful of minutes ago. 

But when she meets him up close, and seemingly sorts out that Sokka doesn’t want Suki to peg him— everything seems to calm down significantly. 

She introduces herself as Yue— former Candour, and daughter of one of the chief justices of the faction. Sokka smiles, and tells her about his father— agrees that they’re similar in more ways than one. 

When the meal is brought out, it’s carried in heavy metal trays that look like something they’d wash the plates in after hosting meals for the factionless— and little to his surprise, there’s food in there he’s never seen before. 

“Have you never seen a bacon cheeseburger before?” It’s Suki speaking, little to his surprise. She still conducts herself like a Candour, even stripped of her white attire, “like... ever?” 

“No, I’ve seen one,” Sokka mumbles, reaching a fork into the metal dish because he’s not an animal— “I’ve just... never had one.” 

“Abnegation eat very plain food, almost all plant based with the exception of those who incorporate the delicacies of their nations’ food before the war. Our blue eyed boy here, probably gnaws on seal-jerky and the occasional sea prune,” The kid’s face, Sokka must admit, is very punchable at the moment. 

He looks up from his own sand which, cheeks flushing as she realises everyone’s eyes are on him— most filled with the same level of annoyance that Sokka’s feeling. 

“Did you swallow a textbook?” His cheeks flush at Jet’s question, and his lips twist into a frown. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, pushing his hair back, “they never liked me much at Erudite either.” 

Sokka’s eyes soften, “hey, it’s okay. I’m Sokka.” 

“Shoji.” 

“It takes guts to be friends with a Candour— they don’t really have a filter.” Yue sends him a beaming smile, “Fearless— a Dauntless already. I’m Yue. Former Candour— but my parents both hail from Amity.” 

“I don’t want to hear about your old factions,” a raspy voice speaks from the end of the table, and they turn to find Five looking at them with an unimpressed look. “You’re dauntless now.” 

“Were you a transfer too?” Sokka asks before he can bite his tongue, struggling to keep the grin on his lips as aureate eye pierce through his fucking soul, “or... were you dauntless born?”

The older kid blinks, eyes narrowing as a incomprehensible look flits through his eyes. It’s gone too fast for Sokka to begin to place it, “what makes you think you can talk to me?” 

“I just don’t think you’re as scary as you pretend to be,” Sokka answers casually, as if he’s not about to get his whole ass handed to him on a half effort deal from number boy, “you’re just... so approachable.” 

Suki snorts behind him, and quickly ducks her head to avoid the withering glare that comes in her direction.

Five states at him for a long moment, and Sokka refuses to look away, “be careful. Not everyone is so forgiving.” 

The look returns— almost broken in a way Sokka doesn’t know how to place. It’s gone again before he can think to much about it, and in a moments notice, Five is walking away with the girl from earlier (Azula?). 

“You have a death wish.” Jet croaks, eyes wide as he looks between the empty spot where their leader once sat. 

“Nah,” Sokka brushes the concern off, “that dude is without a doubt an Aries, way more bark than bite.” 

Yue laughs— and it’s fitting, considering her name means moon. 

Moments later, Sokka is crowd surfing and realising that maybe, just maybe, Dauntless was the right decision— and that gloomy girl had just been trying to scare him.

* * *

Or, maybe not. 

At least, that’s the thought Sokka has at the absolute ass crack of dawn when he wakes up in his shitty cot placed strategically between his friends. 

“You talk in your sleep,” Suki groans, tightening a the laces of her boots, “Spirits, I thought I was going to have to listen to you mutter aboutcactus juice all night— Sokka, what even is cactus juice?” 

“Something I wish I had right now,” he grumbles as they walk up the steps, hair making its with into a messy wolf tail on his head as he blinks sleepily at Five. 

“Alright,” Five calls, in lieu of a greeting— while sufficiently shutting up every single person on the floor of the pit, “there are two stages of training. The first is physical, where we will push you to your breaking point every day. The second, is mental— we will, predictably, also be pushing you to the breaking point. You’ll see your worst fears, and you’ll adapt and evolve.” 

“You’ll be trained separately but scored together,” Hahn adds, rising from his seat on a slap of concrete, “the people beneath the cut will be leaving us at the end of each stage, the rest will move on.” 

There’s a pregnant pause, before Shoji asks, “... leaving? To do what?” 

“You can’t return to your families, so you’ll become Factionless.” 

The air makes a hasty escape from the room, and Sokka feels his eyebrows furrow. Cerulean locks on gold, and as quickly as Five’s eyes found his— they’re gone. 

And thus begins what Sokka would like to imagine looks like a full training sequence with some kick ass hard rock from before the war in the background. A scene where Sokka obliterates the kid he’s fighting. 

But— if he’s being completely honest, his Abnegation founded noodle arms are pretty much pulling a reverse uno card on him right now. 

He’s getting his ass kicked, and by a really, really nice guy. The world goes dark for a moment too long, and he wakes with Five— and, naturally, the kid who knocked him out hovering above. 

“Hey,” sea foam green eyes squint at him, nose crunching up guiltily, “I didn’t mean to knock you out— well, I did— but, I didn’t go into the fight planning on knocking you out— actually, I thought if anything you would—“ 

“Chill,” Sokka nods, wincing as he sits up, “it’s okay. No worries, dude.” 

The boy huffs out a breathe, placing a half melted ice pack against Sokka’s cheek— and no, Sokka does not jump at the sudden contact. 

“I’m Haru,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “I’m sorry, again.” 

“No worries, bud,” Sokka returns softly, pushing himself up with a groan only to see Five’s hands twitch as if to reach out. “I’m Sokka, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you, I’m—“ 

Sokka sends him a quick glance, as if saying don’t apologise again. Haru takes the hint, smiling abashed you before disappearing into the crowd before them. 

“Are you alright?” Sokka blinks a few times, finally casting his full attention on the Dauntless leader. “You took a pretty good hit.” 

“Yeah,” Sokka mumbles, swallowing as he brings his hand up to his head. “You think they’ll forget about this in a few days?” 

He’s almost positive he sees a ghost of a smile, but the brief flicker of amusement is gone as soon as it came. “We’ll see.” 

Just as his smile, Five leaves the room without warning— and Sokka catches his name scrawled in crimson letters across the board. He’s second to last— he’s in twenty-sixth place. 

He sets his jaw, and rises to his feet, dropping the ice in the waste basket. 

It takes more than a punch to discourage him, and Sokka has never been one to give up anyway.

* * *

He’s not sure how he gets from point a (taking a cool four hour nap) to point getting tatted on the neck but here he is.

Beside him, Suki trails her fingers over ink stained plexiglass with barely suppresses astonishment. Yue stands beside her, eyes focused on a glass coated in thick black ink that resemble lunar art and phases in varying degrees.

“What do you think about this one?” Suki whispers, draping her arms over Yue’s shoulders while placing the clear square in her line of view. “I’m thinking on my inner bicep?”

Sokka barely bites back a snort, though his feet stutter to a half on their own accord when he catches the gloomy girl from his testing session.

“I-“

“You made a bad decision.” Her voice is dead pan, her eyes focused on cleaning the needles in her hands as she shakes her head. “Besides. I cant help you. I only do tattoos and piercings.”

Cerulean flashes back the the shelf behind, focusing on the template of a triple crescendoing wave, surrounded in a thin black circle. A wave for Katara, a wave for Hakoda, and a wave for Kya.

He snatches it, earning a glare from Mai when he raises his eyebrows in triumph. Relaxing into the seat, she presses the transferring paddle over his heart.

“Can I just—“

“No.” She answers, but when she glances up, a quiet sight leaves her lips. “You’re going to die here.” 

“What do you mean?”

“People like you don’t survive down here,” she answers, “people who think differently just don’t survive. They can’t control you.” 

“You seem to be just fine,” he grumbles, taking the mirror in his hands as he looks at the ink that will permanently mark his skin.

“I don’t think differently.” She says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m just a former abnegation with a vendetta and a death wish.”

Sokka doesn’t want to even begin to consider what she means. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yue and suki flirting just makes me go :,)


End file.
